


Surprise! Party?

by peterstarker (lazybug)



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Angst and Fluff and Smut, First Kiss, M/M, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Surprise Party, Underage Drinking, Unresolved Sexual Tension, also: hairtrigger, he's a drama queen swear to god, peter is 19
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-20 21:30:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14902373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazybug/pseuds/peterstarker
Summary: Tony's having a surprise party for Cap and invited Peter, except that it's the wrong address. Maybe some alcohol and drama ensue.





	Surprise! Party?

**Author's Note:**

> so this is my first starker fic i'm posting on here under a pseud bc starker. peter's 19 here btw so underaged drinking

Peter got up extra early Saturday morning, a smile on his face. He swore this had to be one of the most exciting days of his life (more so than when Liz said yes to homecoming with him way back when). It was Cap’s surprise birthday party and Tony actually invited him. He _invited_ Peter to a _party_ for _superheroes_.

He spent two whole hours trying to pick out the perfect outfit, with May’s help, of course. He might have called Ned, too. He tried MJ but she didn’t pick up, probably still asleep. That’s alright, though, he didn’t need to be told he was overreacting. Which he totally was, but he didn’t need to be reminded of that, thank you very much.

He’s pretty sure that without his friends’ help, he would’ve ended up going in a suit and tie. Which, well, it wouldn’t have ended up well because everyone still acted like he was such a kid. His inventions and skills have helped the Avengers how many times now? He’s been kicking ass, the least they could do was give him some respect. Thor does! Well, so did Cap sometimes, it depended on the day.

After graduation, it was a lot easier to interact with them; they deemed his presence acceptable then, he guessed.

He ended up with a dark pair of jeans and a sweater, a flannel underneath for “a bit of flair” as Aunt May called it.

 He realized his mistake when it was only 11:00 in the morning and he fully dressed and prepared for a party that started at 7.

Killing 8 hours wasn’t as hard as he originally thought, as he cleaned his room from top to bottom, worked on some web fluid, spent an hour trying to get said web fluid off of the ceiling, and eating an entire bag of Sunchips.

He quadruple checked himself in the mirror, messying his hair as much as looked natural, before making his way to the address that Tony sent him.

It took 5 seconds to realize that something was wrong, as he was at an entirely empty parking garage at the far end of Brooklyn. He tried really hard to not think of the worst possible outcome for all of five minutes. He thought that there was no way that everybody died or just didn’t show. He checked around every corner, looked at the message from Tony repeatedly, and found himself getting more upset as the minutes passed.

Finally, he came to the conclusion that this was clearly a sick joke on Peter. Of course, he wasn’t part of the Avengers. He wasn’t invited to surprise parties or dinners. He was that kid that sat off on the sidelines until they really needed someone.

Eventually, Peter got so fed up with it that he dialed Tony’s number and waited, rather impatiently, for him to pick up and explain himself. But as soon as the tone stopped and Tony started to say something, Peter cut him off.

“What the fuck, Mr. Stark?” he nearly snarled, “No, really. What in the actual fuck?”

No response.

He continued, “Is this some kind of joke? I thought you wanted me there, all of you. This isn’t even funny.” He’s angry how broken his voice sounds, all disappointed venom and harsh wobbling. “Like, I get it. I’m just a kid or whatever but you didn’t have to tell me to come and not give me the right address.”

Tony scoffed, actually _scoffs_ in response and kind of chuckled and Peter feels it right in his gut and it hurts. “Kid, listen—” and that’s it. The last straw of it all. Kid.

“It’s okay, Mr. Stark, I know I’m not wanted there,” he monotoned over Tony and hangs up the phone.

Once the phone was silenced, he wanted to chuck his phone as far as he could throw it (which could be quite far). So, he did. Not long after, he sent a web after it to cushion the blow because while he was working now as more than a vigilante, he couldn’t afford to buy a new one nor could May.

His anguish was flipped into anger at the drop of a hat and all he wanted was to scream or something. Maybe kick Tony's ass for treating him the way he was. He was so caught up in himself that minutes passed as he stomped back and forth. He eventually retrieved his phone from the cement pole, glancing briefly to see if anyone contacted him. No one did and that fact sort of felt like it was gripping his heart so hard just to watch it crumble afterward.

His typical guilt came back full throttle after lashing out at anyone. But for once, he knew it wasn't his problem. If Tony didn’t want to treat him like the adult that he was and play childish games, he deserved the attitude Peter was throwing his way.

 He heard the distant sound of the blasters landing softly, almost timidly. Peter made sure that his back was turned to the suit, not expecting Tony to leave the party he wasn’t even invited to. There was no point in facing what he expected to be an empty, metal Iron Man suit.

“Kid, you don’t understand,” Tony’s voice started, voice warbled and metallic. Peter didn’t even have to look to shoot a web towards the speaker. He could practically hear the way Tony would be standing, arms outspread like the damn _Christ the Redeemer_. And wasn’t that a hoot and a half.

Peter cleared his throat to make sure his voice was strong enough and said, “Like I’m going to fall for that again, _Tony_.” He already had to deal with the suit coming for him before, after something happened. He didn’t want to deal with it again.

But then, the face shield shifts. “Pete.” No metallic voiceover, no resistance in the air.

Peter felt his shoulders slump and his eyes welled briefly. He had to admit that while everything still hurt like a bitch, at least Tony came to find him, to see that he was okay.

“Peter, come on. Look at me.”

A pause. No movement.

“Have I steered you wrong, yet?”

Dramatic as all hell, Peter turned on his heel and he knew his chin was wobbling. He felt like a kid again—like when the ferry fell apart and Tony sought him out and took the suit.

When he met Tony’s big, brown eyes, he raised his chin defiantly and clenched his teeth, waiting for an explanation.

Just as he pictured, Tony stood there, arms wide, the suit disregarded behind him. It must’ve been a newer model, extra shiny and bright, no scratches. Tony’s eyes squinted briefly, eyebrows furrowing in a pleading gaze. He then tilted his head to the side and he sighed like he had a ton of bricks on his shoulders.

He pursed his lips as he waited for Peter to do something, anything. He was patient, didn’t speak until Peter’s fierce expression faltered and his lip quivered when he simply asked, “Why?”

Peter felt all the hurt come rushing back to him at how stupid he must’ve been for believing that he could party with the big kids, the Avengers, for god’s sake. And suddenly Tony was laughing, like really laughing, with the smile reaching his eyes and Peter took steps backward from when he started to walk towards him, taken aback.

“Peter, you got the wrong address,” he coughed, curbing his laughter to say it seriously, “I promise, it is still going on. I’m taking you back there, if you still want to go, that is.”

“I’m sorry,” he added belatedly, going in to wrap an arm around Peter’s shoulder and tug him into a hug.

And well, who was Peter to ignore a hug from Tony Stark.

It was quite the ride back to the real party, with all of Pete’s limbs wrapped around Tony’s front as he flew over buildings. It was different than slinging from webs and briefly, he had quite a fit of vertigo, being upside down and clinging with all his might. He knew he wouldn’t fall but still, the threat was there. Tony laughed when Peter mentioned it.

Once they landed on the top of a building, directly in the center of the helipad (yes, of course, there was a helipad), Peter staggered off of Tony and clutched at his stomach, feigning nausea. It made Tony laugh, which was honestly the point, and winked at Peter as he passed to reach the steps, “Ride of a lifetime.”

The night felt like a dream come true. Thor was clearly hammered, a pun entirely intended (and repeated to everyone), and shouted out a “Man of Spiders!” and pulled Peter into a side-hug and then whispered, “Now, you be careful, Parker. Don’t let the big man catch you with this.” He then deposited a flask into Peter’s back pocket.

Cap gave him a pat on the back that stung for a couple minutes after. Nat winked at him and glanced at Tony afterward before clinking her drink against Peter’s water glass. Even the guy that got really big that one time acknowledged him, though it was to ask if he was even old enough to drink. Close, but not close enough.

After a while, he figured it was safe to take a swig from the flask. So, he found a dark corner, twisted the lid, and sniffed it. It smelled fine so he set the flask to his lips, preparing to tip it back and feel the burn at the back of his throat.

Only to have Tony snatch it from his hand with a reprimanding look. “Oh, come on, Mr. Stark,” he actually whined, and Tony had the audacity to look even more put out, chin tucked down and head tilted, slight smirk painting his lips a pretty, darker pink.

“I’ll switch you,” he stated, handing Peter some sort of pink drink instead. He raised his eyebrows, eyes flicking down to the drink before nodding. Peter took a sip, his own eyebrow raising in surprise, a small noise of approval escaping his lips.

Without thinking, he blurted, “How did you make a drink taste like pink starbursts?” He decidedly didn’t think about how Tony’s lips had been on at least one part of the glass. Tony just laughed and got him another drink after Peter finished it in one gulp with a quick remark about slowing down.

This one tasted like strawberry lemonade, and to his surprise, the bottle was a Mike’s Hard Lemonade, which he’s had plenty of times. He’s not a saint or anything, he’s been to parties with his friends (or maybe just some fires) where they all got drunk off their asses and fooled around. Cheap, carbonated alcohol that went straight to Peter’s head in the best way. Plus, it didn’t taste like alcohol.

Three more down and Peter’s heart eyes must’ve been showing because Cap pulled him aside and told him, “Maybe you should slow down a bit, kid.”

To which, of course, Peter grinned, laughed giddily, and said a simple agreement. When Cap’s eyes softened, Peter said, “Happy Birthday, Steve,” with as much love as he could put in his voice. Aside from Iron Man, he’s always looked up to Captain America…even after the fight between his two heroes. “And hey, thanks for the invite.”

Steve didn’t mention that he didn’t set up his own surprise party but he nodded with a small smile on his face, “You’re always welcome, Peter.”

And he swore his heart warmed twenty times, but maybe it was the belch crawling up from the carbonation. Or actual heartburn. Either way, he was happy and carefree.

He didn’t drink anything else for the rest of the night but the happy buzz lasted a good while, placebo or not. He found himself drifting to the floor to ceiling windows, just taking in the sights. He didn’t know how long he was there but eventually Tony found him, his hand resting on Peter’s lower back, drink in his other hand.

He felt warm all over, heat radiating from the spot where they were joined. “I—”

“—So, you—”

“Oh, you go ahead.”

Tony glanced over at Peter, a softer smile on his face than Peter has seen in a long time. He seemed relaxed, genuinely happy. “I’m glad you’re here.” It was so quiet that Peter almost thought he misheard. But looking at Tony’s face, his confused expression laxed into what he figured was his lovelorn look (“Your puppy-dog Tony-Stark-I-love-you eyes,” as MJ put it).

“Me too,” he replied, genuinely and out of breath. They were closer, now. Peter was facing him entirely, body close and eyes flickering over Tony’s face. “Really, really happy. Awesome, even.” He gulped, licked his lips in a nervous tick. “Really good.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, unsure of what to do with them.

He knew he was just talking to talk because the moment felt…big, too big for a public event. “Tony—” he started, while the other man seemed to have the same idea. They both chuckled, quiet, not willing to break the little bubble between them.

Tony’s hand slid slowly up his back to cup the back of his neck and Peter let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He reached out to set his hand on Tony’s chest, light as he dared. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing would come out of his mouth, so he just stood there, fingers curling and flexing as he struggled to figure out his next move. Tony seemed to have it figured out as he started to lean and Peter’s heart was beating so fast, so, so fast.

A low whistle from out of eyesight broke the spell so fast that Tony stumbled backward, cleared his throat, and ducked his head. Natasha stepped up, looking them both up and down before smirking with a, “Am I interrupting something?” smile on her face.

“You could cut it with a knife,” she said instead, to which Peter chokes.

“What?”

She seemed pleased to be able to clarify, “The tension.”

And then Tony was gone, his steps a slow fleeting.

Peter scrunches his nose up at that, focus leaving Natasha immediately. “I—uh—I—yeah—gotta,” he makes a vague hand motion and takes off in the general direction he thought Tony went. He hears Natasha laugh as he rushed up the steps back onto the roof.

Truthfully, he’s out of breath by the time he made it up to the rooftop and his heart is beating too fast, but he couldn’t let the moment pass. Thankfully, Tony didn’t leave but his drink has been drained and he looks contemplative.

He cleared his throat to make his presence known and stepped up beside Tony. He didn’t know what to say so he waited, hands back in his pockets. He shifted from foot to foot, anxious. Tony finally looked at him, expression more conflicted than before but it vanished as he took in Peter’s nervous smile.

“Are you sober?” he asked and Peter nodded, sure it was the truth. Tony laughed and shook his head at that, motioning with his head and saying, “Come ‘ere,” with one arm out for Peter to swing under.

He felt warm all over again, felt a blush creeping up his chest to his face. That spark was back as Tony looked at him, just looked at him. “God damn.” Peter laughed unbridled and soft.

“Right back at ‘cha.”

Tony’s hand found its way into Peter’s hair and his fingernails scratched lightly, and Peter shivered. Tony’s mouth twitched upwards but went back to the serious state from before. He leaned in, closer than when they were downstairs and sucked in a deep breath. It was shaky when he breathed back out and Peter held his, waiting for a cue.

Tony looked conflicted again as he shut his eyes and rested his forehead against Peter’s. “You want this?” he asked, voice so emotionally raw and truthfully insecure, “I need to be sure, Peter.”

Peter didn’t even need to answer before he rushed forward to connect his lips to Tony’s, all desperation. It was simple at first, a kiss, but nothing like Peter had ever had before. He pushed forward, more into Tony’s space, chest to chest and he cupped Tony’s face in his hands. Tony’s reaction was instant—a breathless noise that charged the energy even more.

Peter doesn’t know who started it but someone’s mouth opened and suddenly his bottom lip was in-between Tony’s teeth and hands were gripping at his shirt, tugging at his hair. “Oh my god,” he rushed out in a moan, trying to give back as good as he was given.

Their breaths were messy and loud, their lips making the most satisfying smacking sounds. “ _Fuck_.”

Peter’s immediate response was to nod enthusiastically, mumbling, “Yeah, okay, yes,” adamantly and repeatedly. Tony’s moved to his neck now, and Peter just lets his head hang back, eyes shut, taking everything in. Tony shifted then, his thigh slipping between Peter’s.

And then he _bites_ , _hard_ and Peter lost whatever dignity he ever had, a shocked, high-pitched moan falling from his mouth as he knees buckled. Tony caught him, Peter can feel him smirk against his neck, and pushed his thigh down harder, bites and sucks and says his name in the most gravelly tone Peter has ever heard.

Everything felt so overwhelming all of a sudden. He could feel everything tighten and Peter froze, his whole body singing, his nerves on fire, and with the last breath he swears he’d ever take, he moaned, “Tony,” and comes in his pants.

Tony seemed so dazed by Peter going limp in his arms that he just blinks at him, mouth agape. “Holy shit.” That’s the only thing said for a full minute, Tony just holding him, looking at him wide-eyed, in absolute awe, eyes shining. He starts to tilt his head, the start of a smirk ghosting his lips, and Peter swears he could die on the spot of embarrassment.

“Did you come? From me? From only that?” he asked, voice low and dark. When Peter nodded meekly, Tony smirks. “I guess we found something we’ll have to explore more. Huh, Peter?”

Peter doesn’t think any party could ever top Captain America’s surprise party.

**Author's Note:**

> any feedback would be wonderful!!! i'm planning on writing some more starker soon so if my characterizations are like off or anything just lemme know thank u


End file.
